Wednesday, February 25, 2015

After the Ordeal

[The correct version is uploaded now.  Thanks for your patience]

[Note, there was an error in the upload.  Somehow the file kept in editing marks.  I took the book off sale and have uploaded a corrected file. If you got a bad copy, you can redownload the corrected file for free. The original will be up by tomorrow hopefully, Amazon willing.  I apologize for the inconvenience.]

After the Ordeal was inspired by two different things.   First, I have had several conversations with a female dominant who swears that her friends and her have done this to guys.  A lot of her stories inspired this tale.  The other influence was my own imagination.  I had a lot of readers of previous stories comment that they really wanted to know what happened next.  At the conclusion of my story, the guy was inescapably feminized and they wanted to know what happened the next day.   This story is kind of my attempt to pick up where those other stories left off.

At the beginning of the story we see Blake walking into work followed by a former coworker and two of her friends.  He's been dressed up in women's clothing and evidently what had did over the weekend was horrible enough that he doesn't have a choice, but to do as they say and report to work in his feminized form.  During the story, he sinks further and further into their web of feminization as they change his clothes, his home, and his behavior until he's the perfect feminized pet.

If this sounds like something you want to buy, please follow the links on this page to the book.  It won't cost you any more, but I make something like 12 cents and for us struggling writers every cent counts.  Here's a sample of After the Ordeal:

"Now, let's go," ordered Cheryl as she motioned for Blake to enter through the outer office doors. He hesitated, but a single raised eyebrow from Rachel convinced him that compliance was his best, if not only choice.

"We'll be back out here at five to pick you up. Don't even think of going home early, or anywhere else!" warned Cheryl, who then smiled and added with a big grin, "Have a great day Blake."

Blake slowly and very apprehensively entered his office. He had become quite accustomed to walking in shoes like this since Cheryl and her friends began their "training” of him. He attempted to quietly make his way up to the front desk believing that probably his best move would be to act like he knew exactly where and what he was doing. Unfortunately, as soon as he made it to the front desk, his attempt at bravado collapsed when Janet stopped him. She was a cute but somewhat plain secretary in her late thirties. She always looked professional, if not particularly alluring and she took great pride in her ability to run the office front desk.

"Can I help you?" asked Janet, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Uh...," he stammered, motioning ineffectually towards his own office.

"I'm sorry Miss; I don't understand. Oh, oh my goodness. Miss…Mister Darcy?" she asked, her voice rising in stunned disbelief, until it ended in a sort of squeak.

"Harrumph” Blake noisily cleared his throat, “Good morning Janet," he replied in a deep voice. "I'll be in my office. Bring me some coffee, the usual, milk and two sugars, please."

Leaving the dumbfounded woman with her mouth hanging open, he quickly made his way to his office. He’d fought so hard to get out of the shared, open plan workplace, to have an office of his own but now those four walls of Plexiglas seemed so inadequate. The other employees could see everything that he did...or as in this case, exactly what he was wearing. He didn't hold a position any higher than any of the other workers still out in the bullpen; they were all salespeople as was he, but his sales figures were always right at the top of a very competitive company. He was the best oin the team and this pathetic modicum of status was his reward.

As soon as he sat at his desk he noticed the strange looks, the barely concealed sniggers, even some outright disbelieving stares. In fact, he could have been almost passable given the right circumstances; if he didn't have to say anything, and the lighting was dim enough. However, stuck there in the fish bowl that was his office, it was just too much for anybody not to recognize the thirty-five year old sales executive in full female clothing.

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